Amid talking about his time in Buffalo and the amount of drinking and smoking he did everyday, he also dove into talking about about ‘dark things’ being all around around people.
“There’s dark s–t around us,” he says. “Dark s–t in us. It’s up to you.”
Hence, heaven and hell being around us, in us, right here on Earth. Good. Evil. It’s all balancing out the universe. You know when you wake up and you feel like garbage? Downright mean? This is a negative entity, he says, “that parasite.” So, OK, sure. We are possessed, he decides.
“That energy, that thing that wants to live through you, wants that experience,” Watkins says. “So you can give it that experience. And when you’re not giving it that experience, it leaves, and it’ll find somebody else.”
He stated he wasn’t conscious of this in Buffalo because he was drinking, high, and depressed.
“He lived fearful then, and bad entities feed off fear. He knows this now. Has seen this.”
He also spoke on demons inside of people.
“He’s convinced some players and coaches get joy out of seeing others suffer injuries. Their raw adrenaline ramps to an “I’m going to kill this motherf–ker!” level—a demon inside getting precisely what it wants. Watkins? He’s messed up for days if anyone—on either team—gets injured. Watkins? A Chiefs teammate once decked him in a padless seven-on-seven session at practice, and when everyone expected him to start throwing haymakers, he tapped the player on the back of the helmet, said, “Good hit!” and jogged back to the huddle.
The way Watkins puts it, repeatedly, is that he’ll never “fight dark with dark.” He will not exchange bad energy. Think about the person you’re closest to, he says, like your spouse. You two transfer energy to each other so much, 24/7, that you’ll practically share the same exact mood.
So why be negative, to anyone, if the darkness is going to boomerang back to you?”
To other dimensions. He can’t see them yet, but he can feel them. After one of his teammates scored a touchdown last fall, another Chiefs player stormed in Watkins’ direction to shout, “Good s–t, Sammy!” Watkins looked at him, dumbfounded. His interpretation for the mistaken identity? His soul had leaped into the player who actually scored.
To the idea that he should be long gone himself. It freaks him out that so many friends and so many family members are dead, and he’s still here. But he knows there’s a reason for it. Watkins still remembers a voice in his head telling him not to go out with two friends one night as a teen. Those two friends were killed.
To the Dark Age arriving. To “shape shifters” he believes are changing life as we know it.
So there’s no free will? No one is responsible for their actions?
Challenge Watkins’ beliefs like this, say that if you don’t want to knock over the glass on this table, you have the power not to, and he just smiles. Something is inside of you, he promises. Whether it’s good or bad, “it’s there,” guiding you. Always.”
In six years in the NFL, Watkins has only had one 1,000-yard season, racking up 1,047 receiving yards in his second year with the Bills after being the No. 4 pick in the 2014 draft.
Even still, he had a strong playoff performance last season for the Chiefs, recording 25 catches for 487 yards and a touchdown in three wins.